See Ya
by Nash Carter
Summary: A drug lord wants to keep the main witness in his brother's trial from witnessing - now he just has to find out where he is. And he knows just who to ask... Warning: DEATH STORY. MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. Some bad language.


This is the first piece of fanfiction I ever finished, thanks to my dear friend Jill. This is for you, babe. Your dream - or rather nightmare - didn't leave me alone anymore, I just _had_ to write it down to get it out of my system. So here it is now. Be warned, folks, it is disturbing. I should know, I found it disturbing to write. It is graphic, there are some words not usually used in polite company, and THERE IS MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. No kidding. Can't get any more major than that. Don't flame me, you have been warned. If death stories disturb you, PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T READ THIS!

The usual disclaimers: I don't own Starsky, Hutch or any other character you recognize. The others are mine. Not that I like them, but hey, I made them up, right?

Okay, here it is now... my first ever story!

****

**See Ya**

_Dreams have long proven themselves to be storehouses of creativity, just waiting for an artist to dive deep into the source of inspiration and explore a dreams potential. When I first told Nash Carter about a disturbing dream I'd recently had, I requested from her a story that would help alleviate the sadness that still lingered in me. Being the supportive and caring friend she is, she obliged. What came out of her talented mind is more than the cathartic story I requested, it is my dream. Literally. This story is an excellent example of a dream inspired work, allowing the reader to awaken with creative insights. As Shakespeare once wrote of dreams, "they are chief nourishes in life's feast (Mac Beth)." What better feast than this?_

_Thank you for this gift, Nash_

_All my love, Jill_

For all this time Hutch had wished these goons would finally leave him alone. And now that they did, he couldn't help but wish they would return. At least then he would know what they were doing, although _what_ they were doing was anything but pleasant. But at least they would be doing it to him and not...

_No! Don't go there! He's okay. He has to be..._ Hutch lifted his head a little, or rather, tried to lift it. He couldn't remember a time when his cranium had hurt so much. Scratch that. He couldn't remember when his whole body had hurt so much. In the least, some of his ribs were badly bruised, maybe cracked. His wrists felt raw from the ropes he was bound with. For the last few hours he had busied himself with trying to get free, and although he was sure there wasn't much skin left on his wrist, at least the ropes were probably all but chafed through. Only a little more. If only he wasn't so tired... He was sure that his whole torso was one continuous bruise. And how his face looked – well, he didn't really want to know. His only comfort was that obviously he had not talked or he would be dead by now. Not that that wouldn't be a vast improvement, but if it meant giving his captors the information they wanted, the price would be too high. Even if they tried the Ben-Forrest-method, he would not talk. Not this time. Not with whose lives were at stake. Now if he only knew...

_Flashback_

_They had literally dragged him from his bed and taken him here. Wherever here was. A cold, almost empty room. The only illumination came from a bare light bulb high over his head. The hard, uncomfortable metal chair he sat on had long since sapped every bit of warmth from his body. They tied his wrists behind the back of his chair, and he silently apologized for every time he had complained about the chairs in various hospital waiting rooms. Then the boss stepped forward and proceeded to lay down a few ground rules._

_"Well now, Officer Hutchinson, we both know why you are here. We're both aware that you are the only one who knows where they are hiding. And we know that if they come out of hiding in three days and he appears in court, I'm in for a heavy fall. Believe me, I have_ _no intention of letting that happen. I will do whatever it takes to find out where Dobey and his family are. And since you are the only one who knows their whereabouts, you are going to tell me_, _now."_

_Hutch looked calmly at the elegantly dressed drug lord in front of him, not giving away how scared he truly was. He knew enough about Gordon Philips to understand he meant business. His younger brother Kevin was going to stand trial for his part in their drug operation, along with several other minor players. One of them – though certainly not his brother, he was sure to be loyal to him – was going to break as soon as they realized just who the main witness was and would sell out the Philips brothers. There were some things that the police hadn't been able to prove. If one of the men talked, it would result in at least life sentences for both of the Philips brothers._

_Hutch forced himself to return the goon's icy, inhumane stare impassively. He knew only too well what this man was capable of. There had been enough bodies in the morgue that wore his signature, although there had never been any witnesses or sufficient evidence against him. As he now stared back at Philips, all he let show was his deep contempt for the mobster who stood in front of him, and his firm determination not to give him what he wanted, no matter what. "Okay, I'll tell you." He actually grinned at the surprised look on his captor's face. "Right after hell freezes over."_

_End flashback_

That had bought him the first of many painful rounds. How many, he couldn't tell. Just like he had no idea how long his captivity had been. After a while, time lost all its meaning. All he knew was that he would never give in. No matter what. His captain and his captain's family would be safe. As long as he still knew what he was doing, that would stay so and the captain would be able to testify at this trial. And as bad as it was, he would have been able to endure it as long as his partner was safe. At least at first he thought that was the case. Until in one of the early sessions his "host" had informed him differently.

_Flashback_

_"You know, pig, you're not the only one we can ask. You thought you were so smart, didn't you? Make everyone believe you're the only one who knows Dobey's whereabouts. Well, we know you have a partner. How stupid do you think we are? Think we believe that fairy tale you're telling everybody?"_

_End flashback_

He and Starsky had tossed a coin, like they often did. Hutch won, and so it was determined that officially he was the only one who knew where the Dobey family was hiding. Starsky did not like it. Not at all. Pointing out that this made Hutch the prime target for any attempt at discovering the location of the safe house. In hindsight, they should have realized that the other side would not be so easily convinced, that they would try to find the safe house through any means possible. And so they had taken Starsky too, at the same time Hutch had been dragged to this place. And, according to what the bad guys had told him, they had not been any gentler with Starsky than they had been with Hutch. Just thinking of what his friend was going through made the blond detective sick, to imagine this brutal treatment doled out to his partner made his heart ache. He could hear their taunting voices...

_Flashback_

_"Your partner has quite a mouth on him. And he's stubborn, I'll give him that. But unfortunately he's not very smart." A sneer that was nothing more than a sick parody of what in a normal human being could have been a smile appeared on his visage. "Neither is conducive to his health. Not that I mind. I like a challenge."_

_End Flashback_

_What you really like is hurting defenseless people, you asshole_. The drug lord would probably be very disappointed if his prisoners broke under torture. No doubt he would find a reason to continue the torment after they talked. Or, if he didn't have the time to enjoy himself, he would simply kill them or leave them to die. How long ago had they been taken, anyway? How much longer till the trial? And most importantly, where was Starsky? What were they doing to him? Was he even still alive? Would they tell Hutch if he wasn't? _God, Starsky, I hope you are alright. Please, just be alright... _But in his heart he knew he wasn't. His friend could be quite a smart-ass when he was being kept prisoner and "interrogated". He would have shown them his contempt clearly, no holding back. And that could only mean that by now he would be worse off than Hutch. _Oh God, Starsk..._

He heaved a sigh that was almost a sob and dropped his head again in defeat. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was it for both of them. Nobody knew where they were, nobody knew they were even missing. Nobody would miss them until after the trial, by which time they would be dead. Of course they would be. The price for their freedom would be the lives of Dobey and his family: Dobey, their captain, whom they greatly respected and was like a father to them, his lovely wife Edith, who treated them like they were her own sons, and Rosie and Cal, their children who adored the two detectives and called them "uncle". The kids they couldn't love more if they were truly family, the family that treated them like they belonged, the family that trusted the two men to keep them safe. Nothing - _nothing!_ - in heaven, hell or earth would make him betray them. And Hutch knew the same was true for Starsk. None of them would talk. They would die first. The only regret he had was that he couldn't say goodbye to his partner and best friend, that he couldn't tell him what he meant to him. _Do you know how much you mean to me, buddy? I hope you do_.

Time passed. Hutch had long since lost all sense of time. Finally, steps could be heard in the corridor on the other side of the door. Lifting his head was difficult and painful, but he didn't want to show any signs of weakness in front of his captors. Then the door opened and he again faced the crime lord that had taken so much delight in trying to beat the information out of him - and had failed so miserably. A sudden surge of pride ran through the bound man. _You can kill us, but you won't break us. You lose, bastard._ The mobster stared down at the miserable figure in the metal chair in front of him. The blond hair matted with sweat and blood, the face swollen and discolored, the torn shirt blood stained. And the pain filled blue eyes proud and determined and defiant.

"You think you've won, don't you? You think because you kept your silence until now, you have defeated me, right? Well, pig..." He leaned closer into Hutch's face, an evil sneer on his own. "Well, pig, that's where you are wrong. True, you took away my chance at preventing Dobey from taking the witness stand. But there is still one more thing I can take away from you." He stood up straight, a look of contempt and sadistic pleasure in his cold eyes.

With an authoritative gesture he told his underling to open the door, and another three of his goons entered, one armed with what seemed to be Hutch's very own Magnum. But that wasn't what made his blood run cold. What really just about killed him was the sight of the other two, who held a third man firmly between them. And if it hadn't been for the dark curls and the familiar Adidas, Hutch wouldn't have recognized his friend.

_"Oh, Starsk..."_ It was barely a whisper; he couldn't get more past the lump in his throat. There wasn't much left of his friend's face or of his clothing for that matter. His own was bloodstained and torn in places, but Starsky's hung in tatters off his battered frame. The original color was impossible to tell, what little was left was soaked in his blood. His ragged breathing told of more than just cracked ribs, Hutch was positive some were broken. Because of the bruises he could see through the tears in Starsky's clothing and the tears in his own eyes Hutch was also sadly certain that there must be extensive internal damage to the worn out body of his partner. But the worst thing, Hutch realized, was when Starsky managed to open his eyes a little.

Deep blue stood out against dark bruises, proud, defiant, fearless. And there was something else there, something deeper. You did good. We did good. We didn't give them away. Now be strong for me, please. I love you, buddy. You're the best friend I could ever hope for. Me and thee, forever...

"How do you like this, pig?" The icy, cruel voice cut deep into Hutch's soul, but the sight of his friend shattered his heart. "I told you there was something more I could take from you." If there was something Hutch didn't like to hear, it was 'I told you so'. And to hear it under these circumstances... "You have one last chance to tell me where Dobey is. Talk, or say goodbye to your buddy." _That asshole really enjoys himself._ With that he drew a surprisingly small gun and pressed it hard against Starsky's temple to make him wince. _Sorry, babe, I really don't want to leave you alone with these jerks and I don't want you to see this..._ Hutch could see it in his friend's eyes. It wasn't so much the pain he was in or even the thought of dying. What brought tears to his eyes now was nothing but sadness, sadness over having to leave Hutch this way.

The kingpin may have made Starsky wince with the new pain, but his eyes held the same determination as before. _Don't, babe. Don't give him this satisfaction. We are dead anyway. Might as well make it worthwhile._ And then he blessed his friend with a gentle, loving smile through bloody, swollen, lips; a smile that made it all the way to his eyes. And his friend gave him another last gift. His voice as he said softly, "See ya."

No sooner had the words left Starsky's lips than the drug lord pulled the trigger. And while it went straight through Starsky's skull and embedded itself in the opposite wall, the bullet really pierced Hutch's heart. As in slow motion, he saw his friend, his partner, the other half of his soul fall, blood splattering the walls of the small room and the people that were close enough, including himself. At the report of the gun, Hutch jerked so violently that the last threads of his bonds ripped apart and fell to the floor unnoticed. All that mattered anymore, though, was the unmoving form of his best friend lying in front of him on the cold, unforgiving ground. He didn't even care about the sharp pain in his chest like his heart was being fiercely ripped out, only wondered idly if this was what a heart attack felt like. And he didn't notice the primal scream that ripped from his very soul. But it was this scream, the unbelievable agony it carried, that got through to Starsky on some level, that reached his soul and his heart and made him give the last of his life's force to open his eyes one last time and look at his friend.

"Hey boss, he ain't dead!" The goon's voice held something very close to superstitious terror as he crossed himself and muttered an invocation to a saint that was sure to go unheard. He couldn't understand how anybody could have lived through the beating they had given this cop earlier, and now the cop survived a bullet to the head! The whole thing was unnatural, and all of a sudden he didn't want to have anything to do with it. And as he turned to flee, the other goons followed him out of the dark dungeon and away from their boss. Or rather, ex-boss. And now, alone and abandoned by his men, he didn't look quite so sure of himself anymore. And being no less superstitious than his former employees, he began to look actually frightened. All his guns didn't make him feel safe in the room anymore with a mortally wounded man and another tied to a chair. And as a small moan escaped from the man on the floor, the drug lord panicked and turned tail and ran from the scene he himself had created.

Finally alone, all Hutch could hear was Starsky's labored breathing and a tiny whisper he couldn't make out. That was when he noticed that he was now free of his bonds and he pushed his unresponsive body off the chair and knelt down beside his dying friend. Hutch was almost afraid to touch him, but still reached out a tentative hand to gently caress the bruised cheek, run his fingers through his matted curls, and wipe away a tear from his eye. He leaned in closely to catch the whisper, soft as a breath, to hear what his friend tried so hard to say. _"Hutch..." _Did he really hear it with his ears or only with his heart? What difference did it make? "Love you, babe...best friend...bye..."

* * *

The uniforms that arrived a few minutes later had no trouble locating and arresting the goons that had not even managed to leave the building by then. After the first hearing at the trial, the judge issued a warrant for a search of these premises and for the arrest of the crime boss that was holed up here. Dobey himself led the operation. The police met with no resistance, as the thugs were just too shaken by the scene they had just witnessed to fight back. When the officers finally reached the basement and found the open cell, even the veterans fought back tears at the sight before them. Two slumped figures, one cradled in the arms of the other, the dead lips of the blond one still resting on the forehead of his dark haired partner.

They said later that the beating Hutch had taken had bruised his heart, and that was the reason for his heart failure. But those who knew them knew the truth. That a man just can't live with only half a heart.

the end?


End file.
